


the only spooky thing here is you

by NianaiBell



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Bear with me I am outta of my usual stuff here, Believer Shiro, F/F, F/M, Ghost Hunter Lance, Ghost hunter Hunk, Ghost hunter Pidge, Implied Relationships, M/M, Might be some angst?, Not sure if it will qualify?, Skeptic Keith, Slow Build, Spook-spook (kinda), klance, weird things keep happening and Keith is over it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16511780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NianaiBell/pseuds/NianaiBell
Summary: Things go bump in the night all the time and there's definitely a multitude of reasons besides ghouls. Keith's 90% sure that his house is not haunted.The people at Ghosted aren't quite convinced though.





	1. If there's something stranger in your neighborhood

**Author's Note:**

> In the spirit of fall I wanted to write a ghostbusters/ghoul fic for our Voltron fam. Thus we have this little nugget! There will be inaccuracies I'm sure so bear with me. I may watch a lot of ghost hunting shows but that doesn't mean I know jack about it. A lot of this is outside my usual writing style so bear with me here ghoulfriends.

Keith

There’s no possible way it’s a ghost.

Keith stubbornly repeats the thought over and over until his brain hurts almost as much as his jaw from how hard he’s been grinding his teeth.

It’s just a series of unconnected _slightly_ strange events with perfectly normal, _not_ paranormal explanations, he reasons as his hands search absently through the cupboard for a clean bowl for his cereal. Successful in his search, he retreats back to the small ancient kitchen table with his box of half-empty cereal and soy milk. He tries to ignore the deafening quiet of the apartment as the clinking of tiny grain flakes ping around in the empty bowl.

So what that things were disappearing almost daily, like his pair of leather gloves he was sure he’d put on the little stand by the entryway last week or his toothbrush which has gone MIA as a have each subsequent replacement. He’s probably just being a little less careful of where he’s placing his stuff. Life has been rough recently with Shiro and work and it was perfectly normal that his energy could be going into keeping him upright rather than remembering little details.

And the fact that Cosmo has been staring off into darkened corners with increased frequency, yellow eyes tracking an unseen path and fur bristling on his haunches. Cosmo could be hyper diligent about a mouse or bug in the house. Keith could almost laugh at the amount of even stranger things he’s done before.

Or the fact that sometimes when the house has settled into the twilight hours that throw the entire place into hues of purples and blues, he hears faint murmurs. Usually barely noticeable but there and unintelligible garble. Keith argues that this is most likely noises from the people passing by for an evening walk or a television that’s too loud somewhere close by. Most definitely not a ghost.

He looks down at his cereal bowl, brows furrowed and body tight. _Most definitely not ghost_. Because Keith is an adult and he understands that ghosts and spirits are hyped up around Halloween for marketing and not something that would have any interest in his life and the ongoing of his abode.

He groans as he realizes he forgot his spoon and moves to heave himself up, immediately freezing as he watches the silverware drawer open a crack, clanging of metal like a hand searching the contents inside before a fork is hurled from the drawer and flies past Keith’s nose to embed itself in the plaster wall behind him.

His blood is hot as it pumps through his chest bringing the surge of adrenaline with it, trying to move him into fight or flight mode against the event. Eyes are blown wide, waiting to see whatever else is lurking in the shadows of his house. His body hurts for how tense he goes although as the seconds tick by with no incident he consciously lets his fingers relax. Keith tries to steady his breathing a bit, blowing warm air past his lips. He feels disconnected as he turns to look between the still open drawer and the utensil in the wall.

A sigh escapes him as he reaches out for the old busted up phone on the table, typing a quick text to Shiro asking for the number again before locking his phone and tossing it away to better ignore the inevitable notification that’ll pop up on his screen soon. He moves his arms across his chest, trying to comfort his buzzing nerves with pressure and consciously unclenching his teeth. The fork hangs ridiculously by his nose and Keith’s frown deepens as he eyes it. “Wrong one.” He mutters and tries not feel childish.

There’s a giggle somewhere off to his left and the fork only seems to vibrate slightly in it’s spot.

 

Lance

“I think I’m literally dying of boredom guys.”

There’s a deep snort somewhere over his shoulder which Lance thoroughly ignores as he crumples up another wad of junk mail. He eyes the paper bin on the other side of Pidge’s desk calculatingly before winding his arm back and letting the tiny projectile loose.

It circles the rim in a wobbly line before falling off the edge and on onto the floor to join a pile of it’s brethren. Pidge lets out a victorious whoop and adds a green dry-erase “S” next to the letters H-O-R on the company whiteboard. Lance tries not to look to the column next to his where Pidge sits at H. His head falls heavily back against the top of his swivel chair, letting the warm sounds of Hunk’s voice wash over his tense body.

“I don’t think there’s ever been a documented case of someone dying from boredom.” He provides as his finger’s flip the pages of the newest SciLife magazine, occasionally pausing to glance through a particularly intriguing article.

“Well I guess I’ll be the first. Maybe they’ll write about me in one of those science mags and everything.”

“Lance, I don’t think being the first person to die of boredom warrants a two column spread in a magazine.”

Lance shrugs his shoulders easily enough, unperturbed by the comment and watches as Pidge sinks another shot. He groans at the smirk directed at him by the gremlin. Trashketball had lost its appeal over three rounds ago but with no calls, emails or even a wrong number text over the course of the day the team had to find ways to endure. The small two room building had been swept and dusted by 10am and they had collectively reorganized the spare furniture at least three times already this week. Lance had caught up with his family periodically throughout the week, fending off the worried concern lacing his madre’s voice and not even rising to the usual taunting of Veronica or Louis.

Hunk had been catching up on The Great British Bake Off, fired up to try all the recipes and casually talking to the contestants at the shenanigans from the show. Lance was still trying to convince him to apply although Hunk had gone over the list why he couldn’t over a hundred times at this point. He’d also had taken most of Monday and Tuesday to try and work out the kinks of their exosuits while Pidge tinkered with more efficient Gamma Ray Exo Essence Neutralizers (GREEN), staying on the phone with her brother for long hours to discuss the wonky parts of the capture unit with frequent jabs tossed back and forth.

Everyone was itching to try out the new gear, more important since the last job had some undiscovered hitches and ended up with everyone coated in florescent green ooze by the explosion of the kitchen ghost of the local bar. Lance was pretty sure there was still ghost goo stuck in his suit and he had not been entirely surprised by the subsequent clean up of the bar by the whole crew. He could feel his face light up with residual embarrassment and the nerves in him cried out to go on another job soon.

Dog-earring his place in the magazine, Hunk scooted his swivel chair over to Lance, clapping a warm hand over the other’s tense shoulder. Blue eyes swung up to meet gold and Hunk squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “We will get another one soon Lance. This little slump will be nothing in a month’s time”

Lance returned a weak smile to Hunk, “Yeah, here’s hoping that add in the paper Coran put out helps.”

“Absolutely. I mean, _I’d_ call us just to know who the good looking people in the suits were even if I didn’t have ghost.” Hunk joked, full body laugh shaking him.

Lance mimicked picking up a phone and pitched his voice upwards into a breathy gasp. “Oh I was just calling to ask about tall, dark and _handsome_ over there with the broad shoulders and headband? What a _hunk_!”

Pretending to fan himself coyly Hunk picked up the thread, leaning back in his chair. “Or what about the cute one in glasses? She looks like she could kick my butt _and_ write me waxing poetry about the supernatural.”

Pidge snorted in a derisively unladylike manner, clutching at her knees. “Oh man. You guys are idiots.”

Lance stuck out a tongue at her, egging her on with a small whine. “C’mon Pidge. You gotta have some stellar supernatural poetry in your desk drawer. Next time I’m rifling through it for those sour gummy worms I’ll try and find them.”

Golden eyebrows shot up as she laughed, “Oh please Lance. I don’t have my emo poetry from 6th grade plastered all over my room at home like you do.” She tossed her head, putting on a fake snobbish accent. “I have better things to do with my valuable time.”

Already scrolling through his old messages with Matt, Lance tried to hold back his devious grin as he tapped on a tiny image to blow it up. He was laughing so hard his body hurt. He eyed Pidge suspiciously as she turned her gaze back to the boys.

“Oh really Pidge? Because according to these screenshots Matt sent me for my birthday…”

He watched as the dawning horror hit Pidge, her eyes growing as big as an owl’s and her mouth hanging open disbelievingly. “That _bastard_.”

Lance huffed out his chest, cleared his throat and began to wave around a dramatic twirl of fingers. “ _Circuits of green wires and clean lines, their beauty is by far the greatest wonder of these modern times…_ ” Lance holds up a finger dramatically, unflinching of the beast he’s unleashed.

“ _These all fail compared to you, giant spaceship of reds, yellows and blues. Ready to take flight with marvelous technology-_ ” He’s cut off as Pidge lets out a battle cry, tackling him out of his seat and onto the floor. By the good luck of his lanky arms, he’s able to loft the phone above her, laughing hysterically.

“I’m going to murder him and tell his ghost we got him from the mole people under the earth.” Pidge exclaims, tugging at Lance’s outstretched arm and kneeing him in the stomach.

Hunk sighs, already moving to tear the two apart. “ _One_ day guys, is that too much to ask?”

When there’s no other response than Pidge’s unholy shriek of a battle cry Hunk murmurs under his breath. “You guys are the worst.”

An awkward cough from the door of the room pulls their attention up to the pair of newcomers.

Coran simply smiles down at his coworkers, “Ah, another rousing game of Pidge tries to murder Lance? I do appreciate knowing that our team has so much energy but I’m afraid I need to pause this to introduce you to our newest costumer.” He motions to the shorter man beside him. The man shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather coat, lips twisted between a frown and a laugh.

“This is Keith Kogane. And I’m delighted to tell you that I think he has a ghost in his home.”

 

Keith

Keith didn’t quite know what he was getting himself into with Ghosted. Shiro had originally suggested them, saying his friend Matt had a connection to the place. Keith had intentionally brushed it off for a while, adamant that there wasn’t a ghost problem at all. But after The Breakfast Incident he’d called and inquired about coming down to check it out.

Ghosted was on the edge of town, almost entirely clear of the bustle of busy city life and empty at this time of day. It was small, easily tucked into the tiny space in between two larger shops, it’s facade made of old brick and announced by tiny chipped golden lettering across the top. It hadn’t seemed like much and Keith had almost convinced himself he was being stupid when the front desk attendant caught his eye and enthusiastically waved him in.

So far the employees themselves seemed like spin offs of bumbling ghost detectives from every teen show he’d seen. The front desk attendant, Coran as he introduced himself, had a well groomed appearance and a surprisingly large mustache that distracted Keith as the other reaffirmed their early conversation about what Keith may or may not have seen. Keith felt his face burning at the conversation, once again feeling silly about the whole thing. Coran though seemed to have no sense of discomfort, easily slapping a hand onto Keith’s back and ushering him to the only door besides the front door.

Meeting the actual team that was supposed to handle ghost felt like he was being punked. Once separated from their tussle, the trio had promptly introduced themselves sans anymore incidents. The group seemed young, all in their early twenties with bright eyes and a shared excitable energy between them. Keith found it difficult to believe that these kids were his age and running a ghost hunting business, distracted by just how affable they all appeared to be.

The most grounded of them, Hunk, is the first to ask Keith about his visit. He fields through the short unhelpful answers Keith supplies almost effortlessly and for that he’s grateful. Keith’s been pretty sparse on the details of his “ghost” mostly hoping to have one of these guys validate him and subsequently cross out the possibility of a spirit and get Shiro off his back. By the end of the interview he can tell that the group of them are having a difficult time parsing together ideas on the small bits of info they've gained. Pidge adjust her glasses and sizes Keith with a steady gaze. “So you’ve had some disembodied voices, things randomly disappearing and your dog has been on edge? Anything else?”

Keith shakes his head stubbornly, hair whipping across his forehead. “Anything else? Like what? I don’t know what would be _ghostly_ and what’s just the house.”

Hunk’s hands splay out in front of him, fingers ticking down as he lists off supernatural things. “Well, just anything that’s different from usual at your place. Like, flashlights with full batteries or new bulbs shorting out frequently, physical touches like shoving or being scratched, cold spots in the house, a change in the emotional pull of the house, flickering lights. Sometimes people hear footsteps. There’s always the classic of seeing distinct shapes or people when you’re home alone. ”

Keith doesn’t remember anything else out of the ordinary about the house. Nothing unsettling at least. It’s not the newest place but it doesn’t have a lot of creaks and groans that he could mistake for ghostly noises. He still bites back telling them about the fork thing this morning though, unnecessarily embarrassed about event. He feels like even this group of professional ghost hunters might think he’s having delusions.

“No.”

Lance looks slightly annoyed, probably at how unhelpful Keith is purposefully being and it makes Keith feel a little bad, his shoulders edging up to his ears. The other male glances sideways at him, mouth pulled down into a mix of confusion and frustration.

“There’s gotta be something else.” Lance practically sighs the words out, his body sagging against the support beam behind him.

Shoulders tighten in defense, Keith shoots the male a stubborn look. “Why?”

”Because a skeptic like you would just dismiss everything. But _something_ had to push you into coming to see us, something you can’t just rationalize other than ‘ _strange_ _occurrence_.” Lance seems to pick up that he’s hit the nail on the head based on his shit eating grin and he turns his full body to confront Keith. “So what _was_ it, Mr Skeptic?”

 _Patience yields focus, patience yields focus, patience yields focus_ \- Keith pinches at the bridge of his nose, weighing whether or not this is still worth it before he releases the fight out of his shoulders and back. Shiro would be pissed if he backed out or punched the annoying smirk off of Lance’s face. Probably more so at the punching part but you know both wouldn’t be worth the lecture after. Keith steels his expression and stares Lance down, challenging him to call him out on the event.

“Something threw a fork at my face this morning. And now it's stuck in my kitchen wall.”

Everyone is silent for a heartbeat, two before Pidge starts to grin. “This is going to be fun!” She begins to jot down notes, probably resources to look up, if there’s a particular type of spirit that does this, precautions to take, etc.

Coran is simply stroking his mustache, eyeing the ugly shade of beige the wall is painted. “Well now, what a remarkable feisty little spirit you have Mr. Kogane! Was the projectile in response to anything?”

“I had forgotten a spoon for my cereal. As soon as I thought about it the drawer was opening and then _whoosh,_ there’s a fork in my wall.”

“So it threw a fork at you?” Lance recaps, disbelief lacing his tone.

Hunk looks warily at Keith. “Have you done anything to taunt it or has it always been this, uh, helpful?”

“I didn’t even think it could be a real thing till today. It’s been mostly quiet.”

Pidge is still writing but looks up to the crowd in the tiny space, her eyes already checking through some invisible list in her head.

“Okay so it sounds like we should take a look at this spirit. Maybe this is nothing and maybe it is but we should check it out either way. I’m going to do some tinkering with the equipment and we should do some research about Keith’s address and surrounding area as well as some preliminary precautions.”

Lance nods to Hunk, both fist bumping with huge smirks on their faces. “You and me are on the location then!”

Before he even knows he’s going to speak there are words tumbling from Keith’s mouth. “Wait, both of you?”

Both men pause and raise matching eyebrows at the comment. There’s a subconscious tilt to Lance's head that sends his bangs falling. Keith tracts the motion unintentionally.

“Yeah? We usually like to get as many eyes on this as possible so we know what’s up. Why do you have something to _hide_?” :Lance says it tauntingly and Keith tries to ignore the bubble of annoyance and the twist of hot embarrassment.

“No, it’s just that my apartment is pretty small and Cosmo doesn’t do well with new people.” He refuses to admit that he’s a little anxious about having people in his space, which he belatedly realizes that it was going to happen either way.

Lance simply grins and slings an unnecessary arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry Skepticman! We will be in and out in a hour flat if it’s nothing and if it’s not nothing, well you won’t have to worry about it anyways because you’ll have the best on the case.”

Keith fidgets under the touch and groans as Lance’s words completely undermines himself.

\--

 

They set up the appointment for the end of the week, after Keith gets off from his job at the garage. He knows he’s going to want to shower before Lance and Hunk get there and he tries not to think about the slight prickle at his spine at the the thought of it.

After the meeting he drives across town on his bike, stopping just past the tiny chalkboard sign of Shiro’s favorite coffee shop.

By the time he’s sliding across from his brother, there’s already a black coffee ready for him as Shiro closes his grade book. The older man sweeps his arm through his hair, sending it flying in all directions. He looks tired, but better than he has been for the last several months and for that Keith is thankful, he sips at his lukewarm coffee and waits for Shiro to lead off.

“So how’d the appointment go? Convinced that you’ve got a ghost?”

“I’m not even convinced these guys know what they are doing. I walked in on two of the practically wrestling on the floor Shiro.”

There’s a short laugh as Shiro processes the scene. “Wow, sounds exactly like how Matt would run a business.”

“Wait Matt isn’t involved right? He wasn’t there and his name wasn’t on the card.”

“No, he tends to steer clear of the place because he knows how much Pidge wants to show she can do it on her own.”

Keith’s surprised at the appearance of the ghost hunter’s name. “Pidge? Wait is she related to Matt?”

Shiro hums around his sip of tea, setting it down and reaffirming the info to Keith. “They’re siblings, didn’t you see the same family habits?”

There’s a thud as Keith’s head hits the table. He’s doomed if anyone related to Matt was going to try and fix his house. Matt was a genius but unconventional with anything technology related. Keith can think of a hundred stories with Matt and Shiro and all of them end poorly. He smirks though, because honestly they always are entertaining.

“How are Hunk and Lance doing anyways? I hope they’ve grown up since high school.”

Keith freezes, thrown off from hearing the two males names. He must look off kilter because Shiro just sighs. “Adam used to have them for homeroom their last year at the Garrison. It was Adam’s first year and he thought about quitting right then.” Keith ignores the pang at the fondness in Shiro’s voice and stumbles through his thoughts to express the strange team.

“Uh they seem to be okay? Pretty strange but okay. Lance and Pidge were the ones struggling when I walked in. Hunk seems cool though.”

Shiro hides a laugh behind his hand. “Sounds about right honestly.”

Keith feels awkward talking about this, like he’s intruding on an old familiar joke and he chews at the inside of lip;

“They are coming by on Friday to scope it out. I doubt they’ll find anything though and that’ll be the end of that.”

“That’s the first time I think anyone outside of immediate family has been over to your place invited. Keith you’re growing up so fast.”

He sticks out his tongue childishly and pointedly ignores the heat in his face. “I didn’t invite them.” Is his only reply.

“Going to a company that investigates paranormal things is probably going to come see you.”

Keith slumps. “I know.”

Shiro eyes him for a long moment over the rim of his own coffee mug, expression curious but open. He knows how much Keith enjoys his own space but after the last couple of months Shiro has noticed how much Keith has been retreating into himself, careful with his words and expressions. It's like he's thirteen again with a bad haircut and a worse attitude and Shiro feels almost as lost now as he did back then.

“What’s the deal Keith? You’ve always had a deep respect for your own privacy but these guys are just coming over like a it’s a routine maintenance visit. Instead of fixing the heat, they’re making sure that the ghosts in your place aren’t trying to kill you.”

He’s right, Keith knows he is. But there’s still something about the whole thing that grates on his nerves and fixes his shoulders just a notch too high towards uncomfortable. An unthinking hand rubs at his knuckles and he does his best not to heave another sigh. Shiro watches the struggle play out over the entirety of Keith’s body, a frown weighing down his own lips before he reaches across the table and ruffles at the dark locks. He greets Keith’s irritated smirk with a sweet smile, hand retreating across the table.

“You want me to be there with you? I could help deflect some of the attention, have an extra eye for the ghoulies and all that. Maybe even have food on the stove when you get home so you’ll be less of a grump?”

It pulls a snort from Keith just as Shiro had hoped and the younger male is shaking his head.

“I don’t need my older brother tagging along for a ghostbusting tour of my place. Knowing you, you’d spend most of the time telling stories from our childhood and making terrible jokes.”

He shrugs, ignoring the statements because that’s exactly what he’d planned on doing.

“Also you know your cooking _sucks_. Adam is the best cook in our-” The sentence is out before Keith can think of holding it back, eyes blowing wide at the easy mention, something he’s been doing his best to not acknowledge and he looks down to his gloved hands. The other’s remains silent and for that Keith is grateful but he can feel the heavy sag of broad shoulders and the familiar ache that seems to emanate from Shiro’s eyes. Shiro only takes a deep breath and lets out a paced exhale before he shakes his head. “It’s alright Keith. I know it’s still pretty fresh. You should try and talk about it sometimes though.”

Keith lays his head down again and remains quite. He feels like shit anyways.

Lance

The next few days fly by with everyone at Ghosted revved up and excited to get the ball rolling on a new investigation. It’s been too long without something to do and the buzz around the office has everyone’s spirits lifting. Pidge spends most of the day fiddling around with final adjustments on their suits, crossed legged on the floor and tossing around ideas about the research Lance has been pouring over. He’s dug further back than probably strictly necessary for this relatively young area of town and he’s widened the circumference of the investigation by a good mile or two. He’s thrilled to have something to do for sure, but there’s also something deeply fascinating about being able to pour through old documents and starting to fit pieces of this larger puzzle together. It’s rewarding in a way that the actual ghost hunting rarely is and Lance is grateful for the projects.

Hunk and Coran have been doing field test with various beams and capture units, mostly making sure nothing explodes and testing the flexibility of their works suits. Hunk seems to be grateful for the distraction too, the normally jovial man walks around with more purpose lately and Lance has caught him full on belting out songs when he thinks Lance and Pidge can’t hear.

The engineer walks into the works space for the first time since he and Coran had begun testing equipment this morning and plops down besides Lance and avoiding the mess of parts Pidge has scattered around the office space. He’s munching on cookies Coran had brought into the office this morning; little cartoon ghosts with ‘boo’ written across their bodies and Lance finds the notion of Coran baking these goodies for the team endearing. He snags one off the plate Hunk brought with him and bites into it happily.

“How goes suit testing dude?” Lance asks around a mouthful of ghost cookie, wishing for a glass of milk instantly.

The taller of the two practically vibrates, hand waving around as he discusses logistical information on the suit that Lance mostly follow, providing occasional questions that send Hunk off on new tangents. Pidge pauses for her work and moves up to slump against Lance’s back, head buried into his shoulder like a baby sloth. Lance offers her a cookie over his shoulder and Pidge simply chomps into it tiredly.

“I do think we should all do some run-throughs in the suits though. We haven’t worn them in a while and I don’t like the idea of anything going wrong at Keith’s place.” Hunk suggest.

Lance nods, not particularly excited to slip into the hunk of metal and thick plastic. “Tomorrow maybe? Let’s make sure at least most of the kinks are out.”

He glances back at his little laptop, a smirk on his face. “Besides I just found what I think could be a breakthrough and I want to see if it’s right. If it is I can’t wait to tell Keith.”

Pidge groans from somewhere over Lance’s shoulder. “You just want to gloat that you might have an explanation for what’s going on.” The words are muffled by her current position and mouth covered by his shoulder but Lance thinks he gets the gist of it.

He lifts one shoulder slightly and ignores Pidge’s protest at the action.

“I mean, I don’t think he needs to believe that this is most definitely a spirit but I think he should at least consider _all possibilities_ before dismissing this.”

Hunk rubs at his chin thoughtfully, a curious tilt of his eyebrows fill his face. “I am actually surprised Keith came here at all for an answer. He seems so against doing this. I wondered if someone, I don’t know like a significant other or a family member probably, put him up to it?”

“Not our usual customer base for sure. A little less, ‘I-think-this-is-the-spirit-of-my-dead-husband-inhabiting-a-squirrel’ and more ‘I’m-doing-this-for-an-episode-of-punked’. It’s a change for sure”

“We don’t even know if it’s a spirit though. At least not yet. I am excited to see what we are working with on Friday though. Hopefully whatever it is won’t get spooked by having us there.” Hunk’s fingers are pulling at the edges of his shirt, wiping at some mysterious new stain and Lance digs through his desk drawer to pull out a stain remover pen. He tosses it to Hunk quickly.

“Well, if it does get spooked then we will have to ask Keith if he’s okay with us either coming back or leaving cameras on while he’s out.” He rolls his shoulder, shaking Pidge off and catching her by the waist and carding a hair through the mess of her hair, attempting to get the strands to lay flat.

Pidge snorts and pushes his fingers away but not moving from the constantly too warm body beside her. “I don’t think he’ll be too keen on either of those but imagine if we able to capture something this time! We could study it and see what it’s made out of or try talking to it!” A familiar dreamy haze filtered through Pidge’s gaze and she melts into Lance’s side. The two males bit back their laughter before Lance pushes Pidge off his side abruptly with a prompt “Back to work gremlins!”

Pidge complies, collapsing back on the floor, stretching her arms tiredly above her head. One thin eyebrow arches to Lance. “What is this new thread you picked up on anyways? Less than twenty minutes ago you said that this place was a bust.”

There’s a dramatic wave of long fingertips to brush away his earlier sentiments before Lance is spinning around the laptop and pointing out several different tabs of notes.

“Okay so five years ago, we have this woman...:”  
  


Keith

The house call is still three days away and Keith is doing his best to not let his mounting anxiety get to him. He keeps earphones in while he’s home to purposely drown out the potential for anything that could be “ghost sounding” and to also wipe his thoughts clean so he doesn’t have to think much at all.

Unfortunately all his efforts are upended by the jarring vibrations of his cell phone, tucked into his back pocket. He takes a moment to let his heartbeat slow and for the rush of blood to fade from his face before fishing out the device, registering the ID as ‘the ghostgang’ before accepting the call.

He’s greeted with the staticy but bright voice of Lance before he has the phone all the way up to his ear.

“Hey Keith! Sorry to bother you before our visit but I have been doing some digging over here and I think we have some information for you about the house.”

He lets out a small huff adjacent to resignation and walks towards his couch, Cosmo following obediently at his heels. “Wasn’t really expecting to get back story here.”

“Well, it could help put some puzzle pieces together about your place or it could help us figure out if the energy is attached to you in particular.” Keith feels his his lips turn down at that. “Besides I wanted to check in on you and see if anything else has happened.”

“It’s only been _two days_ Lance.” Keith supplies, avoiding the inevitable rush of information from the other. He’s not sure any backstory would even matter or if it would just make him think he’s experiencing more haunting things. There’s a crackle of laughter from the other end that has heat pooling at his face. Keith pointedly ignores that too, refusing to admit to anything other than irritation at the male.

“That’s plenty of time for something else to happen if something really is trying to communicate with you! It seemed pretty determined to get your attention with the fork man.”

“That’s a one off, everything else really could have other explanations. I’m asking you guys to investigate so I can _cross off_ ghost or other supernatural things.”

“Ghost or other supernatural things could also be an explanation though Keith!” Lance reasons. Which is fair because this shit is literally his job.

His head falls back to rest against the edge of the couch, fingers rubbing at his forehead and eyes closed. He knows they could go on a loop like this, about what could be supernatural and why it wasn’t. They had briefly started that spiral at the end of Keith’s visit before Pidge had pulled Lance away to start researching the place. Lance had only laughed, telling Keith that this conversation wasn’t over yet.

“But it’s not the only explanation and it isn’t even the most plausible.”

There’s a snort from the other end, “Yeah but I don’t think 'gravity has completely shorted out in your apartment and is now tossing around your silverware' is a better option.” A burst of staticy laughter erupts through the line and Keith does his best to ignore it. He instead busies himself with rubbing a hand through the soft of Cosmo’s hair, happy panting emanating from the dog.

“Anyways-” Lance continues blithely, as if he wasn’t bothered at all by Keith’s resistance to the ghost in his house. “About what we found.” His voice drops a bit but still continuing on speedily like he’s genuinely interested in the findings. Keith finds it ridiculous and charming which he promptly stomps down.

“Like you’ve already told us your house was built in the early part of 2000’s, taking over older but unsuitable living situations dating back to the 1930’s. Since the construction began on your home there have been a handful of reportedly eerie sightings/encounters, etc. The usual apparitions and signs of a lot of older areas of town, right?” Keith nods even though he knows there’s no way for Lance to see.

“So, the general hauntings and what-not persist seemingly randomly until about five years ago when there were over _fifty_ reported sightings and almost twenty cases of physical interactions.”

Keith does his best to not sound skeptical. “Physical interaction?:

“Yeah, bruises and hand prints. Things like that. But the catch is that most of the time the recipients said that there wasn’t a malicious spirit but more of a cautioning one. One person reported that the hand prints appeared directly over her stomach and then found out a week later she was pregnant. Another guy said that a ring of bruises appeared around his ankle and a day later he broke his leg walking down his stairs.”

Adjusting into the couch, Keith refrains from rolling his eyes. “Sounds like a bunch of coincidences or people mixing up their timelines and blaming the supernatural for normal things that happen in life.”

“This may not seem like a lot to you, but fifty sightings in a six month time span is much higher than usual for a residence. And there’s more instances of this energy being able to predict things like pregnancies, accidents and even deaths.”

“Assuming this is the work of a ghost, why five years ago? What happened and why do you think it’s correlated to me?”

“Ah, that was my next point. I’m pretty sure a woman, who used to live maybe less than a house down from your current place, is trying to communicate with you. Five years ago almost to the day Renee Billingsworth passed away unexpectedly in her home. She was 35 with no health problems or family history of such.”

Lance finishes his theory excitedly, his voice thrumming with excitement although Keith’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be this happy over a dead woman. He leaves the end of his statement open for Keith to respond and the seconds tick by while Keith decides whether he should laugh or call off this whole investigation because there’s no fucking way he’s being haunted by an overly worried ghost woman.

“You’re serious?”

Lance’s voice deflates slightly over the line and Keith almost feels bad and then reminds himself that Lance is trying to say a omniscient ghost lady is watching over him.

“ _Yes!_ The timeline makes sense, the location is right and the happenings around you and your home make sense.”

“Except for ghost don’t make sense Lance.” Keith stresses with a bit too much bite.

“Look you’re the one who came to a ghost hunting agency. That means you’re looking for explanations and right now our research lines up pretty well here. Otherwise my only other theory is that you’re a wizard and you’re just now discovering your magical powers.”

“That's fucking ridiculous.”

“Okay then we are back to my theory. I’ve got some ideas and when Hunk and I come over I’d love for you to at least be on board for us to try them.”

There’s a beat where it almost sounds like Lance is asking permission to do this and that’s ridiculous because Lance is the supposed expert. He’s right that Keith did seek them out and maybe Keith should just shut his mouth for five minutes and let Lance try. That way if it fails at least Keith could say he gave it an honest try.

“Yeah, fine. You and Hunk have the experience here.”

Lance’s almost annoying amount of confidence is back in a heartbeat and he’s stumbling over reminders about Friday night and asking if the time is still okay. Lance urges him to call or text him if anything strange comes up and wishes him a goodnight.

By the time they hang up Keith is slipping his phone back into his back pocket, headphones lying forgotten on the table and a smirk on his face that last the rest of the night. 


	2. the road to hell is paved with good intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They try.
> 
> They make a mess.
> 
> They learn, maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t try communicating with spirits kiddos. Theoretically Lance and Hunk are professionals in this.

Keith

Keith is running late Friday. He calls Ghosted as soon as the garage he works at finally closes, voice rough with exhaustion and explains he needs another hour. Hunk laughs kindly and assures him it’s not a problem just as Keith is grabbing for the keys to his bike.

He makes it home in record time and takes the steps two at a time, mostly to have an outlet for the last dredges of work day energy hanging onto his shoulders and back. But when he gets a hand around the doorknob and gives it a twist to open it sticks.

There’s a moment where Keith runs through every foul word he knows while he jerks at the knob again, pushing most of his body into it. The knob remains stubborn closed.

Behind the door he hears Cosmo let out a long low whine and followed by a muffled voice.

Chills run up Keith’s back immediately and he has to strain his ears to try and pick up the words. Everything is hushed through the thick frame of wood, dampening any hope of recognizing more of the hollow sounds. His first thought isn’t _ghost,_ it’s _intruder_ and he heaves at the door again, hoping to scare away anyone in the house by his arrival. As his hand tightens this time the metal burns, sparking white hot on his palms through the leather, the searing pain pulling a hiss from him. Keith stumbles back and angrily pulls at his gloves, revealing fresh pink and agitated marks against his palms.

There's growl from Cosmo and with determination fueling his actions Keith steps back, planting one foot heavily against the ground and the other swinging a well aimed kick at the hinges of the door frame. Surprisingly the wood gives far easier that Keith would have expected from a locked door and his momentum lands him against the frame, cursing against the force of it all.

He looks up in time to see a dark blur wavering against the backdrop of his house. He watches for a moment, the thing flickers and grows before a gust of cold washes over him as the figure blinks out of existence. Cosmo crashes bodily into his leg, a whine at seeing Keith and the dark of his fur spiked up against his body. It’s too quiet in the house after the crash of the door and Keith feels slightly lost in his own space. He ventures inside anyways, carefully checking all around the cramped space of his house for the intruder. Because that had to be it, an intruder. Not fucking Renee.

A thorough scan of the place and Keith has to admit that there’s nothing there.

He pushes grease covered fingers through his bangs, breathing as slowly as possible. He has no explanations for this right now and he knows the crew will be there shortly. He’s not sure that he wants to be alone or if Lance and Hunk’s energy will somehow be good for the current buzzing in his limbs but there’s not much time either way. He checks his phone one more time and heads off to the shower, trying to shake the feeling of eyes following him.  
  


Lance

By the time Hunk pulls the hunker of a van into the sparse street parking, Lance can feel something is off. There’s no easy way to place it; it’s not _bad_ and it’s not harmful but there is a weight that clings to his shoulders and pulls at his chest as he shoulders half the bags of equipment they’ve brought for tonight. The feeling grows heavier and curls around his throat as he and Hunk descend the first couple of steps to Keith's place. He chances a quick look back at Hunk to see if he feels whatever this is but the other man seems his usual even-keeled self and Lance does his best to push the strange feelings aside.

The door seems like it has had better days, he notes idly looking at the sides that are covered in scuffs and splintered as Lance raises a fist to knock against the dark green wood. He knocks twice and waits for the tell tale thump of footsteps. He hears nothing and starts when the door swings wide to reveal a freshly showered Keith. His hair has been pulled up into a high ponytail, droplets of water falling to wet a dark splotch at his shoulder. His face is still rosy from the undeniable heat of the shower and Lance checks himself with a sharp reminder to be _professional_ here before he’s grinning wide.

“Long time no see man!”

Keith seems to relax a smidgen, a small smirk at his lips and he steps back to let Hunk and Lance shoulder their way through. There’s an eyebrow quirk at the amount of equipment they’ve brought and Hunk laughs it off. “Don’t worry this is it! Mostly just monitoring equipment.”

“It looks like you guys are moving in.” Keith tries for a joke but it feels too flat.

“Mhhh. There’s a lot of stuff here but hopefully it’ll help us catch whatever is going on sooner. I’m sure you’d rather have the place to yourself again huh?” Lance is grinning up from where he’s digging through bags, hoping that the jokes will help loosen the weird knot still lingering in his chest.

Before he can even formulate and answer there's a flash of dark fur, Cosmo having spotted and intercepted the newcomers. He circles Lance and Hunk curiously for a couple of rounds, moving onto the baggage briefly and over to where their shoes have been placed. Both Lance and Hunk are delighted at the appearance of the four legged friend, Hunk awwing at every twitch and tilt of the furry head. Cosmo must be able to sense the impending head scratches because he settles himself in between Lance and Hunk, tail swaying happily.

Keith just watches, eyebrows rising at the lack of wariness on Cosmo’s part. Keith didn’t have people over, _ever_ really, besides Shiro. But looking at the dog ham it up with the new arrivals, tongue lapping at Lance’s outstretched hand and nudging against Hunk’s knees, Keith feels another little chip away at his earlier anxiety.

“Not completely to myself, but I’m sure Cosmo would love to have my full attention again. He's not usually like this actually. Uh, wow he really likes you guys huh?”

Hearing Keith’s voice makes dark ears twitch and his golden eyes land on his owner as if realizing he’s here for the first time. There’s a slight head tilt in his direction before he’s back to rubbing against the outstretched hands.

“This good boy? He seems like such a friendly guy. We like you too buddy.” Hunk coos at the dog, fingers running happily through the tufts of soft fur.

“It’s just, we uh, don’t usually have people over so I’m kinda surprised.”

“Well he probably knows we are here to help then.”

Keith hums, at a loss for what to say and apparently Lance and Hunk take that as a sign to start setting up. Lance turns to him, hand on his hip and tiny recorder resting on his shoulder. He nods to equipment and smiles. “So where did this fork in the wall incident happen?”

It takes the better part of an hour for Keith to point out different spots of previous ghost activity, revisiting the details he already told the team earlier. Contributing only when necessary Keith goes about making dinner, pulling pans and utensils from various drawers, carefully minding the camera’s and heat signature boxes. He stops short as an afterthought hits him while he’s pouring noodles into the boiling pot and offers dinner to the two guys. They both decline, although Keith is pretty sure Lance looks like he regrets the choice immediately. The two work their way through the space, Lance points out things he thinks may be useful for Hunk and Hunk asking about the former tenants. Occasionally they toss a question Keith’s way and he has to swallow around a mouthful of pasta more than once to stumble over a response. He hesitates for a split second when Hunk asks if that was the last of it, straightening another blinking box and flipping on the switch which to Keith looks like it does absolutely nothing.

“Uh there was something else. When I got home today, the door was sticking shut and I heard a voice inside. I figured it was an intruder. But then the door handle started to burn my hands,” There’s an unconscious motion to tug at his sleeves to cover up the still pink hands. “And when I tried kicking down the door it was unlocked and I saw, something.” He finishes lamely, unsure if he is really going to choose to trust his eyes on this one.

A few quick steps and Lance is extending his hands with a sight curl of his fingertips, motioning for Keith to place his hands atop his. Tentative he does so, trying to focus on the question Hunk directs at him as Lance’s fingers turn his hand over to examine the extent of the burns. Keith knows what he sees; light pink skin, raised and uneven that takes up almost the entirety of both his palms. Keith watches Lance’s face, notes the soft frown there and the furrow of brows. He swallows at the closeness and glances back down to their hands instead.

“Keith?” Hunk prompts again, worry beginning to filter across his brows at the radio silence.

He shakes his head, “What was that? Sorry Hunk.”

“You said you saw ‘something’. Can you give any details at all? Anything could help.”

“It was a blur, and I was just trying to get into my place. But it looked like-” He cuts himself off, long held skeptic beliefs holding at his tongue. But Lance’s hands are still on his, and blue eyes flicker up curiously at him and the words burst free before Keith can stop them again.

“It was a dark blur, but it looked like the outline of a woman before it vanished.”

There’s a rush of excitement from Hunk who begins rattling off things a mile a minute, what this could mean and how this could be a breakthrough. Lance is still, mouth parted and eyes fixed on Keith’s face which is slightly unnerving from this close up, Keith thinks over the embarrassed flush on his face. “Uh, Lance? You okay?”

Lance shakes away whatever thoughts were bouncing around his skull with a self conscious laugh and then he’s gone back to one of the smaller bags and is ruffling around in there. He procures a first aid kit triumphantly and proceeds to usher Keith onto the couch to sit. He grudgingly accepts the directions but insist that he can handle the patching himself up part.

The taller male leans against the couch, all too smug with one hip slung over the arm rest and arms crossed over his chest. Keith ignores the grin, hands jerking through the application of the burn cream.

“Shut up.”

“Well now Mr. Skeptic, that’s quite a dozy of an apparition.” He’s taunting, Keith knows it but he can’t stop the response to Lance’s riling him up.

“I’m trying to cooperate because I want to figure this out. I’m just telling you what I saw. It could be lots of things; a trick of the shadows, _your_ story getting into my brain and projecting onto the night. I don’t know lots of things!”

Lance smirks, obviously happy to have the upper hand here. “Yeah those could be it, or it could be that this energy is getting bigger and trying to tell you something.”

“Look, I saw something. I’ll give you that. But neither of us actually knows what it was so until you can actually produce something I’m going with I probably just need more sleep.”

“Oh we will find something for sure! Me and Hunk are the best team for your current predicament. Actually there is this cool story, like one time-”

There’s a holler from the direction of the hallway and Lance is flashing a full blown smile at Keith before he gives the other a goddamn _wink_ and takes off into the direction of the shout.

Lance tries to get a handle on his excitement, after all Keith looks more than a little spooked by the experience and for someone who genuinely does not believe in spirits that has to be pretty major. But he _knew_ the strange feeling he had here was legit now and he knows they will find something. _This is gonna be a good night_ he thinks to himself as he wanders into the hallway, Cosmo on his heels.  
  


Keith

 _This is gonna be a long night_ , Keith thinks as he watches Lance and Hunk finish strapping what looks like Go-Pros to their chests.

The two have seemed to finished whatever new set up they needed and Keith has to remind himself to trust that they know what they are doing because as he sees it the whole process has just seemed like a chaotic mess. Although it seemed the two were seamlessly able to navigate their own chaos and had given Keith a thumbs up.

He’s sitting in front of Lance’s laptop, reading through a complied list of Lance’s notes on the house and the sightings he had talked about earlier, one hand stroking Cosmo’s head resting idly on his knee. He’s got to admit that the notes are thorough and it was actually pretty interesting stuff. He’s still going to chalk it up to coincidences but whatever.

“Okay, so we are gonna do a walk through of your place with these babies recording.” Lance points to the GoPro again. “And an EVP running too.”

“We'll start out by checking the areas with the most activity, i.e. the kitchen and living room. Then we will hang around for maybe a hour or so, see if we can talk to it and make sure everything is normal then we can head out for the night.” Hunk looks to Keith, grinning comfortingly down at him. They’ve briefly talked about the plan and he’s on board as much as he feels he truly can be. He’s willing to try this because there's strange stuff going on but Keith still feels like it's more likely exhaustion is finally trying to drag him down or some repressed emotions coming to the surface in unbelievably strange ways. If they don't find anything tonight then Keith thinks he’ll be relieved. The possibilities stemming from that conclusion are not ideal but then again neither is the idea that the left over soul dust of humans past are trying to spook him.

He's not sure which is worse.

There’s a small salute from Lance before he’s leading the way throughout the small space, the tiny handheld device in his hand doing a wide sweep of the area and body pausing every now and then to listen. Hunk follows, slower but he’s got his shoulders almost too far back, like he’s overcompensating for the prickles of fear in his limbs. Still he soldiers on, occasionally speaking in a hush voice to Lance about a set of readings.

Keith waits sitting crossed legged on his old couch, absently rubbing at the soft fur under Cosmo’s chin, ears listening at the creaks of footfalls against his carpeted floors. Hunk had suggested that whatever entity could be here might be attached to Keith (he had honestly tried to not snort at the sentiment but failed even with the looks directed at him). Thus they had deemed it would be more beneficial for him to stay. Which was fine, if not incredibly boring. So he spends the next thirty minutes scrolling through his phone, occasionally looking up to track where the guys are at in their investigation.

He considers brewing coffee but doubts quickly that the caffeine will actually do him any good right now.

There’s a slight buzz signaling an incoming text and he slides the screen open to a notification from Shiro.

 **Shiro**  
7:34pm

How goes the ghost hunt?  
Did you get a picture with the ghoul yet?

 **Keith**  
7:34pm

Really?

 **Shiro**  
7:37pm

They’re not like vampires right? So they can show up on film.

  
**Keith**  
7:40pm

Sure, if they existed

 **Shiro**  
7:44pm

You have two people in your house right now that would argue  
that they do indeed exsist

Keith  
7:45pm

And there’s one person who actually lives here

who would say that this house has a very strong  
breeze and strange gravitational pull problems

 

Keith can practically hear the sigh from Shiro.

 **Shiro**  
7:47pm

Just don’t shut your mind down Keith. There’s more out there  
than we can know.

 **Keith**  
7:48pm

Right  
Aliens

 **Shiro**  
7:50pm

Keith…  
But yes those too  
Seriously I know you want to get to the bottom  
of this, just give the guys a chance. They’re actually  
pretty good at what they do.

 

He lets out an annoyed huff of air, eyes slipping shut.

He _really_ is trying. There’s not a lot of answers readily available for him but the whole hiring Ghosted thing is to make sure he’s being as thorough as possible. He may not believe any of this but if he can find evidence or suggestions that make sense and line up in his brain, well maybe he’ll learn something new. Keith glances at his phone again and shoots back a quick ‘yes mom’ text before he’s tossing his phone to a far corner of the couch.

It’s only another ten minutes before Hunk and Lance are settling in the living room with Keith. Lance’s face is scrunched up in a peculiar way that Keith can’t read and he looks to Hunk for clarification only to find the other man rubbing at his chin with a small frown.

Keith tilts his head slightly, eyebrows quirking and asks “So…?”

A frustrated sigh comes from Lance and Keith watches as he rubs at his forehead like that will give him the answers. “You’re gonna hate this Mr. Skeptic but there’s this weird, vibe, around your place. It’s cold and it kinda feels like being stuck in fog. But that’s about the strongest thing I’m finding here.”

Lance is right, Keith _absolutely_ hates that answer.

“Yeah dude, there’s definitely something off here. There’s been strange cold spots in your kitchen and bedroom. And our EVP readers are picking up some strange recordings.”

“Sounds pretty standard for a house right? Cold spots due to drafts or air conditioning, strange recordings could be anything.” Keith isn’t sure what he’s trying to accomplish here, if he’s saying it for his sake or to reaffirm that all of this doesn’t mean ghost.

Lance leans back on his palms and lets his gaze wander around the living room. “Yeah, we weren’t expecting too much but you have to start somewhere right?”

He smiles like Keith’s dismissal doesn’t mean anything in the scheme of his plans, and maybe it doesn’t.

“If you’re okay with it, we should still do a quick session out here too. See if we can get anything on the motion capture or with the recorders. Keith buddy it’s up to you if you want to be here for it or not.”

Hunk’s watching him carefully, his face open and yet still unreadable which Keith finds fascinating. The men seem content to wait as Keith does his best to casually shrug at the offer. He feels the complete opposite at this moment though with the two pairs of eyes directed at him. “I’m fine right here.”

Before the words are even out Lance is up and moving about, grabbing recorders they had left discarded and chatting away amicably. Suddenly Keith isn’t quite sure what he signed up for. A warm hand covers his shoulder, drawing his splintered attention up to the warm eyes of Hunk, a pleasant grin pulling at his lips.

“That’s the spirit.”

Keith wants to laugh, instead he just hides hangs his head and hopes his bangs are long enough to cover his face.

 

Lance

The weird knot in his chest hasn’t loosened a bit since Lance had gotten here. Instead of leaving after they’ve seen the place it seems to have morphed, tendrils of it sneaking along his shoulder blades and putting a quickness in his gait he’s never noticed before. He’s never been somewhere that’s done this to him before either though.

Lance’s history with ghost goes too far back for him to particularly recall a specific instance where he discovers ghosts were real. He’s always felt them there, pulling at the ebb and flow of his being with sheer force of will rather than actual corporeal bodies. Very rarely are they _dangerous_  or _menacing_ , mostly he feels them as lost or heightened senses of ' _I’ve gotta go somewhere_ '. He doesn’t see anything either, at least no more than the next guy spouting of supernatural experiences. At the edges of his vision sometimes he sees a movement out of alignment with the world or a shape too translucent and opalescent at the same time for this world.

It wasn’t even this ‘gift’ (his mom loved calling it that, loved Lance and everything about him to love calling it something special), that set him on this path. On a fall day in his freshman year of college he’d met Pidge by accident. And that had been it. They had bonded quickly through classes and games and science and space and everything in between and it was natural that paranormal would come up. Lance had bit his tongue, always skeptical about sharing this thing that wasn’t even a real big thing with anyone. Hunk knew because he had the patience and soul of a Saint Bernard and eventually it had slipped. And Pidge had just rolled with it like it was a fact to be added into her schema of the universe.  Because Pidge tackled all things with a mind racing a mile a minute and the idea that she could _make_ anything happen. If the human mind could create so much by sheer force of will, why couldn’t the universe? At least that was the cut and dry answer she had given him.

There were always the stories of Matt being her floatation device in the bustling world they lived and how he kept her awake and thinking. He'd heard story after story of how Matt had been there to push and pull in all the directions Pidge never knew she needed to go. And somehow, Lance became one of those directions. Lance, Hunk and Pidge craved knowing more and knew they could do it. They could search for mysteries of the universe and they could help them if they needed it.

Over the course of college the three had planned and plotted and saved what they could from jobs and opened a dinky shop in the city. It was exhausting and the heaviest workload they’d ever undertaken and none of that mattered the first gig they had.

All of that had Lance to here; sitting in the dark, cross legged on the floor beside Hunk and close to their newest case, Keith the Skeptic, who sat on the couch with dark eyes watching them curiously. He felt the pull of this strange energy right at his throat, prodding him for something. A deep breath in and a counted measure of breath out and he’s sparing a quick glance (challenging, confident, teasing?) up at Keith. Dark eyes blink back slowly at him and there’s an increasingly familiar smirk there.

Lance turns his attention back to Hunk.

“Ready Hunk?”

There’s a thumbs up and they both countdown.

“3”

“2”

“1”

They both flip their flashlights off, letting the dark of the night fill up the space of the room.

They did have a flare for the dramatics.

Green glows from their equipment to highlight the contours of faces and soon everyone’s eyes have mostly adjusted to the dark. It’s kind of cool, Lance thinks quietly even in his own head, just letting the world be for a minute. There’s several long minutes of just the deep breathing in the room before Keith breaks it, rough in an indiscernible way.

“What happens next?”

An easy shrug form Lance, “We talk to whatever is here and hope it talks back.”

Hunk nods along sagely across from him. Lance can almost hear Keith rolling his eyes.

Lance leads off, as is tradition between the team, pitching his voice loud enough that it sounds like he could be talking to someone in the kitchen. “Hello? Is there anyone here with us tonight? If there is, we want to talk to you.”

“Our names are Hunk and Lance, if there’s something you want to say, now would be the time to do it.” Hunks voice is warm but in charge, like he’s establishing his role in this conversation between the spirit and them.

There’s the usual silence, which Lance expects. He’s not necessarily looking for a vocal reaction anyway. He closes his eyes to listen better and feels the strong pulse of his heart right next to the soft pull of energy near it.

They wait and Hunk lowers his voice to direct it at Lance.“Anything?”

He shakes his head, his too long bangs brushing his forehead annoyingly. He should cut that.

The overbearing silence beats on and Lance squirms just a bit on the carpeted floor. They wait for a little longer, hearing the air conditioning click off, hearing the gentle inhales and exhales of the bodies huddled here. He feels sure that a sufficient amount of time has passed when he opens his mouth again.

“There was a woman here, Renee. If Renee is here please show us a sign.”

Nothing happens other than Lance feels the knot in his chest begin to move like soft hands, carding their way up to the back of his neck. It’s not comfortable but he can tell it’s meant to be soothing.

“Renee, it seems like you’re trying to get the attention of the guy currently living here, Keith. The one with a persistent scowl and ridiculous hair.” Keith shoots him a dirty look, obviously not impressed but still raises a hand to the air and says “Uh, hey.”

At the sound of Keith’s voice the knot in Lance’s chest seems to catch flame, burning through his chest and star bright behind his eyes. Lance slams his eyes shut and drops his head against the sudden change. He can feel more so than see Hunk make a small move towards him, voice louder, “Lance?”

He grits his teeth anyways, pulling himself up as close as he can to normal. “Renee, why are you here? Other residents have said you’ve given them warnings about something. Is there something about to happen?” The burning doesn’t change or if it does it lessens a bit, curls back on itself and sweeps throughout Lance’s limbs. He doesn’t think this is a warning kind of house call then.

Lance can feel both sets of eyes on him and he looks briefly up to Hunk, prompting him to take the reins while Lance tries to get him voice back in control.

Hunk catches on quickly, albeit a little thrown off and says shakily and a pitch too loud. “If you are here, please let us know. Move a chair or turn on one of our flashlights.”

They both watch as Cosmo’s fur rises on his hackles and he bounds up onto the couch with Keith, a protective paw resting over his lap. Lance doesn’t like the sight of Cosmo going on edge like that. It probably means they should do it to.

But when have they ever listened?

“Renee or anybody else that may be here, I need you to show me a sign.” The words leave Hunk’s lips and Lance can feel the air, the tension, leave him. It leaves him gasping as an unconscious hand raises to his chest at what had felt so full now left him hollow. It hurts in a way he hasn't felt before and it gives him pause. _What the hell is this_?

Keith is moving around now, making to get up. He sounds irritated and bewildered as he speaks. “Okay, this has gone on-”

The cold that sweeps into the room is instant, like the pipes of the building have burst freezing water over them. The chill almost burns along their skin and Lance guesses he’s not the only one having difficulty breathing. The room tilts on it's hinges and everything becomes too sharp at once; the edges in the darkness become stark against each other. As the the lines of Hunk across from him swing wildly into focus and makes him want to throw up. Keith grunts as something pushes him forcibly back into the couch cushion, Cosmo’s teeth are bared and he's growling in Lance's direction. Lance can feel the energy in the room thrum and wobble but he can't see _anything_ and it's terrifying. 

Against the stark contrast of the room, dark purple haze solidifies into the outline of person.

It’s between where Lance and Hunk are sitting and Keith up on the couch. The shape is moving at once, swirls of particles winding around the thing while the edges remain undefined and flicker in and out. It stands perfectly still and everyone holds their breath. Lance doesn’t chance a look at Keith, not wanting to break whatever spell is happening in the room. Oh god good _Keith,_ Lance thinks, this is gonna be hard to explain. He can feel the ice still creeping along his skin, turning his fingers numb.

Trying to collect his splintering thoughts, Lance reaches for the thread of conversation. There has to be some kind of answers here. “Renee?” He ventures and sees his breath echo out the words on the cold air.

The world shifts beneath them, Lance and Hunk thrown forwards and Keith pitches into Cosmo’s side with a huff. That seems like enough of an answer for him. Lances pulls his shoulders back and stares the flickering apparition down. He tries to be bolder, has to be, because what is this thing here for?

“Help us understand why you’re here!”

The shout seems to undo the trance and the apparition turns (at least as close as what Lance can tell because there is no forwards or backwards here) to him. There’s a flood of heat and a pang so hard in his chest that he honestly believes he might have a heart attack.

The moment he thinks it the world shifts again, the lens of the world shifts everything back into it’s normal focus and the thing is gone.

Just like that Lance falls forward, hearing shouts of his name from far away before everything is black.


End file.
